Noir
Chapter 46

After quickly slipping into my clothes, I made my way down to the warm and inviting kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the tantalizing scent of the toasting bagel. I carefully placed the bagel into the toaster, eagerly anticipating the satisfying sound of it popping and sizzling.

As I waited, I poured myself a cup of steaming hot coffee, the rich aroma wafting up and enveloping me. I settled down at the small wooden table, its smooth surface cool against my fingertips. My mind was still racing from the vivid nightmare I had just experienced. It had felt so vivid, as if I had truly been transported to another time, fighting alongside warriors, feeling the weight of their swords in my hands.

I couldn't shake the feeling that these warriors were connected to the Eton Coven, the ancient lineage of my ancestors. But the names I had encountered in my dream were unfamiliar, not matching any of the ones I had come across in the golden city. What had happened to them? And what was the stronghold they were so fiercely fighting for?

Just as my thoughts started to consume me, the timer on the toaster dinged, jolting me back to reality. I eagerly grabbed the perfectly toasted bagel, its crust golden and crisp, and took a bite. The soft, doughy interior yielded to my teeth, offering a delightful contrast of textures. The coffee in my hands was still piping hot, its steam curling upwards, beckoning me closer.

I took a small, cautious sip, allowing the bitter taste to dance on my tongue. It provided a momentary distraction from the unease that lingered within me, a nagging sense of foreboding that I couldn't quite shake. It made me question the knowledge Gran had imparted about the Eton Coven's history. Was there more to their story, their battles, that had been kept from me? And if so, why?

Lost in my thoughts, I found myself yearning for someone to confide in, someone who might hold more answers about the enigmatic past of the Eton Coven. Perhaps there was a way for me to uncover more about my own heritage, to unravel the mystery behind why this dream had affected me so deeply.

As I continued to sip my coffee, the warmth spreading through my body, I couldn't help but wonder if there was someone out there who held the key to unlocking the secrets of the Eton Coven's past. Maybe, just maybe, with their help, I could begin to understand the truth behind my ancestry and the profound impact this haunting dream had on me.

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I considered asking Elena about it, but a nagging hesitation held me back. She'd always been so secretive, her eyes full of dislike toward me. I had a feeling that even if I did ask, she wouldn't divulge the whole truth. Instead, I opted to approach Eton.

As I finished my breakfast, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air, I made my way to the study. Eton was already engrossed in his research, the soft tapping of his fingers on the keyboard creating a rhythmic melody. "Hey, Eton. Mind if I talk to you about something?"

I settled into the chair opposite him, the worn leather squeaking slightly as I shifted. He glanced up from his computer, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"It's about my dreams. They've been consuming me lately, and last night's was especially vivid." Describing the dream, I lowered my voice to a murmur. "I was hoping you might have some insight."

Eton leaned back, his chair creaking in protest, and steepled his fingers together in thought. The faint scent of old books mingled with the sterile scent of the study, creating a unique atmosphere. "Well, I can't say for sure, but it's possible that your dreams are connected to a past life within the Eton Coven. Some individuals experience vivid dreams or even glimpses of events from their previous lives."

Pausing, he studied my face for a moment before continuing. "Have you considered asking Noir?"

I nodded. "I have, but given our current situation..." I let my words trail off.

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Eton's expression softened, sympathy etched across his features. "I understand. It's a difficult position to be in. But if you ever decide to approach him, know that I'm here for you. I can provide a neutral perspective."

He paused, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Although, I must admit, my attempts to reach out to him have been met with the same cold shoulder."

I returned his smile, a glimmer of relief washing over me. "Thank you, Eton. Your support means a lot." Taking a sip of my coffee, its warmth spreading through my chest, I savored the comforting sensation. "I'll consider it. And if you come across any information about that dream or the Eton Coven's history, please let me know. I'd greatly appreciate it."

Eton nodded, his expression solemn. "Of course. And if there's anything I can do to help you understand your dreams or delve into the Coven's past, don't hesitate to ask." He paused, his voice filled with earnestness. "You may not have been told everything, Lyra, but it's because we only want to protect you."

His words struck a chord deep within me, resonating like a haunting melody. Despite the tension between the brothers, Eton was still looking out for me, his protective presence felt like a warm embrace. It made me realize that perhaps there was more to the situation than I had thought. Maybe Noir wasn't the enemy I had made him out to be in my mind. I took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders like a burden released.

"You know, you're right. I should talk to him. Maybe we can sort things out," I said, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "Would you mind... asking him if he'd be willing to talk to me? I don't want to be unprepared."

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Eton nodded, his expression thoughtful, his eyes reflecting the sunlight filtering through the window. "Of course, Lyra. I'll speak with him and let you know when he's ready to talk." He paused, then added, "In the meantime, if you ever want to talk about anything else, you know where to replace me."

I smiled gratefully, feeling a sense of warmth spreading through my chest like a comforting hearth. Standing up, I turned to leave. As I walked towards the door, I couldn't help but feel a small glimmer of hope flickering within me like a distant star. Perhaps there was a way to mend the rift between Noir and myself. Maybe I could replace a way to understand my dreams and the Eton Coven's past, all while rebuilding my relationship with Noir. The thought was both daunting and exhilarating, like standing at the edge of a precipice, ready to take a leap into the unknown.

The next few days passed in a blur of activity. I threw myself into my hunting, the sounds of the city filling my ears and nose, trying to keep my mind off of the impending confrontation with Noir. I didn't want to dwell on my dreams or the strange feelings they evoked, so I buried myself in ridding the world of evil, losing track of time in the familiar comfort. But as much as I tried to avoid it, I couldn't help but think about our conversation. Eton's words echoed in my mind, their resonance like a gentle whisper in the wind, and I knew that sooner or later, I would have to face Noir. I just hoped that when the time came, I would be able to replace the words to explain how I felt and what I needed from him. The day finally came when Eton approached me, his expression solemn, his footsteps echoing softly on the stone floor. "Noir would like to talk to you, Lyra. He asked that you meet him tonight in the park by the old Oak tree, at dusk." I nodded, my heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and fear. "I'll be there," I said, forcing a steady voice.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with vibrant hues of orange and pink, I made my way through the familiar path to the ancient tree. The earthy scent of fallen leaves mingled with the crisp freshness of the evening air, filling my nostrils. My hands were shaking, my breath coming in ragged gasps, the cool breeze caressing my skin. What would I say to him? How would I explain how I felt? I tried to compose myself as I rounded a bend in the trail, and found him leaning against the broad trunk, his eyes fixed on the ground.

"Noir?" I said, my voice barely audible. He looked up, his expression unreadable. "I'm here to talk."